


The Things That Lurk In The Dark

by taramacIay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, POV Second Person, Suspense, Teenager Sam Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taramacIay/pseuds/taramacIay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam always lets his brother's teasing get to him, and takes on a dare. <br/>His first solo hunt, and it's not pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things That Lurk In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> A Sam POV one-shot set around his teenage years.   
> Fair warning, it's AU.

You walk quietly, barely letting your foot touch the floor before you raise it. The hallway is dark, and the only source of light comes from your flashlight, and it is just enough for you to see.

You breathe as slowly and as quietly as you can, trying to avoid making any noise. You are a ghost, and ghosts aren’t heard or seen.

In the distance, a door slams, and the loud sound startles you. You gasp in surprise, the intake of air being louder than you wanted, and you freeze. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the inevitable moment during which you will be discovered.

But nothing. The footsteps that you heard after the door shut have faded away, and you make sure not to go anywhere near there – just in case.

You begin walking again, this time even more slowly and cautiously. You try and lower the brightness of your flashlight as much as possible to lessen the risk of discovery, but you held it wrong and suddenly the two batteries fall out.

They fall to the ground with a loud clatter, and they bounce. You curse yourself for being so careless, because now you will have definitely have been heard, and you cannot see anything. It is just pitch black darkness.

Still, you crouch down and blindly feel around the floor for the batteries. They can’t have fallen too far, you think, and you have to stop yourself from exclaiming in excitement when you feel a cylindrical object.

You found one, and you put it in your pocket – it would be useless in the flashlight on its own. Another door creaks open, this time from a hallway somewhere behind you, and you fall to your knees. Your hands hover over the ground quickly and desperately, and you pray you find the battery you need in time.

You would try and run without it, but you would surely make it easier to be discovered if you were running around in the dark – you never were a graceful person in the light, in the dark you would surely trip and make loud noise.

You decide, finally, to just stick to the walls and stay in the dark, you stand and, in few steps, your foot rolls on something. You catch your balance, but you keep your foot on the battery so when you crouch, you retrieve it with success.

Hastily, you insert the two batteries back in the flashlight and the light turns on, illuminating the hallway slightly. Your footsteps are louder this time, and they seem to echo, and you let out a stream of swear words, insults at yourself.

You shouldn’t have let your brother’s taunting and teasing lead to him daring you to do this. This was his job – or Dad’s. You weren’t experienced enough to do this – not yet, at least.

A squeak sounds and you wince, knowing it was the sole of your shoe that made the noise. Even knowing this floor was, for the most part, usually empty, you can’t help but think something is lurking in the dark.

It has been an hour, almost two, since you’ve entered the building, and you still haven’t found the object of your hunt. It was an easy one – or so your brother told you – and relatively quick to get over with.

Still you were nervous, and every step you took made your heart beat a little faster.

You reached a set of stairs and try to remember what the book said. The creature prefers darker places, damp too – so you go downstairs, to the basement. The cement is comforting after wooden flooring, and you let the quietness of the basement put you off guard.

No scuttling, no heavy footsteps and no creepy noises that seem to come – in your experience – hand in hand with hunting.

There’s a strange smell in the air, however, and you follow it. It will surely lead you to where you need to be. You count your steps – one, two, three, four – and slow your breathing. Your mind starts to recite every bit of information you know about this monster, and your hand reaches for the holly stake you brought along.

Your flashlight suddenly flickers on and off rapidly, before fading away and leaving you in darkness again. This time the batteries are dead, and you don’t have any more. _Next time_ , you mutter under your breath, _I’m bringing more than two_.

But there won’t be a next time; because you feel a tap on your back and then all there is is pain, and the stake and dead flashlight fall to the ground seconds before you do.

Your eyes are open and your body feels like it’s on fire and your last memory on Earth is of disappointed eyes that look so much like your brother’s.


End file.
